


shatter

by carrionkid



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Jotunn Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 09:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13164264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrionkid/pseuds/carrionkid
Summary: so. uh. this is an idea from an au where loki learned pretty early on that he was an adopted jotunn and how that would shape the first thor movie. not meant to be a woobifying fic, just a 'loki fucks everything up because of his own insecurities' fic. the working title for this fic was 'lord help me i'm back on my bullshit (mcu fics)' lmao--“Give it back,” Loki cries out, jumping up for the wooden dagger that Thor’s holding just out of reach.They’re the same age but Thor is already taller, even when Loki stands on his tip-toes. He makes another attempt to grab the dagger only to fail, fingers just barely ghosting it.





	shatter

“Give it back,” Loki cries out, jumping up for the wooden dagger that Thor’s holding just out of reach.

They’re the same age but Thor is already taller, even when Loki stands on his tip-toes. He makes another attempt to grab the dagger only to fail, fingers just barely ghosting it.

“Give it back!”

“I never get upset when you take my toys,” Thor says, lowering the dagger from where he’s holding it up in the air.

“Just give it back!” Loki shrieks, eyes squeezed shut and too upset to be aware of the fact that Thor isn’t holding the dagger out of reach anymore.

The dagger slips from Thor’s grasp and falls to the ground, sound muffled by the soft grass, “Loki, you’re blue!”

It’s such an unexpected statement that he freezes before saying, “No I’m not!”

“Yes, you are! Look in the pond!” Thor shouts, pointing over behind Loki.

He turns, running to the little pond in the royal gardens so quickly he almost trips over his feet. Dropping to his knees, he clutches the carved stone edge of the pond, peering down at his reflection. He is very assuredly blue, with thin lines following the curves of his face.

Whipping back around to glare at Thor, he shouts, “WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?”

“I didn’t do anything! You’re the one with magic!” Thor pouts, arms crossed as he looks at the ground.

“You must’ve done something!” Loki’s voice catches in his throat, words choked by a sob, “You always ruin  _ everything _ !”

“You’re the one who gets to do the cool magic! How do I know you’re not just showing off by making yourself blue?”

“Does it  _ look  _ like I’m showing off?” Loki snarls.

There’s a small gasp from Thor as he takes a step back, “You look like a Jotunn!”

“No I don’t!”

“How do you know? You didn’t even look!”

Loki peers back into the water, teeth bared in a growl only to realize they’ve all come to sharpened points and that his skin is an even darker shade of blue than before.

“See?” Thor says, voice jumping an octave higher than usually, “You look like a Jotunn!”

“TAKE IT BACK!” His voice sounds hoarse and he turns back to Thor, fingernails clawing in the soft soil of the garden, “Take it back! Or else!”

“I’m telling mom!” Thor yelps, “That you... That you’re…”

“I’m not a  _ monster! _ ” It comes out sounding scarier than he meant, so he drops his voice quieter, “If you tell mom, I’ll tell her you were mean to me!”

“I don’t care about that anymore!” Thor adds before running for the entrance to the garden.

The sound of running water from the different levels of the pond blocks out the sound of Loki crying, but he’s still aware he’s doing it. He always hates crying but he can’t stop it, his whole body’s shaking with the force of his sobs and whenever he opens his eyes, he can see his hands and how strange they look. Thor never cries, not even when he gets hurt during training.

He opens his eyes when he feels soft hands cupping his cheeks, tipping his head to look up. His mother’s fingers feel so hot to the touch but he doesn’t want to pull away as she wipes the tears from his eyes with her thumbs.

“Breathe, little one,” she whispers, voice soft and even.

As he takes a deep breath in, Frigga can see the blue of his face fading ever so slightly. She continues to lead him in breathing until he’s back to his usual, albeit pale, appearance. Then, she gestures to Thor, calling him over.

“What’s wrong with Loki?” Thor asks, leaning over her shoulder to look down at his brother, curled in Frigga’s lap, eyes rimmed red from crying.

“Nothing at all, sweetness,” Frigga says, tucking a strand of hair behind Loki’s ear before patting her free leg, “Now come sit with us.”

Thor nods, scampering around to sit on her lap across from Loki. He leans against her and she cards her hand through his hair.

“Loki is still your brother,” she starts.

“I  _ know  _ that.”

“Loki is not your brother by blood,” Frigga says, holding up a finger to keep Thor quiet, “But he is ours.”

“Is he a Jotunn?” Thor interrupts, squirming around to look up at Frigga.

“Yes, he is,” she says, stroking Loki’s hair as he makes an uncomfortable humming noise, “Odin’s magic was strong enough to help him keep this form so far, but now he’ll have to practice and maintain it himself if he so chooses.”

“I don’t want to look like  _ that, _ ” Loki says, rubbing his eyes to avoid looking at Frigga.

She sighs, almost sounding disappointed, and for a second Loki thinks he’s made the wrong choice but he relaxes when she kisses the top of Thor’s head and says, “Run along, little one. I need to speak to Loki alone.”

Thor pouts but darts off when Frigga gives him a serious look. Then, she stands, picking Loki up and cradling him against her. Usually he’d complain that he’s too big to be picked up but today he leans his head against her shoulder.

“Why didn’t you-- Why did you--” Loki stumbles over his words before finally shouting, “But father kills Jotunns, he’s told us all his stories!”

“You were a baby, my dear, you were not guilty of anything.”

“But the rest were,” Loki says, falling silent; he’s always been a quiet and calculating child.

She sets him down in her private room. It’s a sanctuary the children are rarely let in, Thor even less so than Loki. Daylight spills in through high windows and Frigga takes a seat on one of the carefully woven mats on the floor.

“You’ve been practicing what I’ve taught you, right?”

Loki nods, splaying out his fingers in front of them and drawing them together to create a little spark of green light.

“Good,” her smile is soft, not quite reaching her eyes, “Now, keeping up this form will take a lot of strength, the world likes to stay in its original state. Your body is already used to holding it, but now you must use your own power to keep it in place.”

“How do I do it?”

“How do you feel right now? Close your eyes and think about exactly how your body feels right now. You want to hold that thought in your mind and keep holding it until you don’t notice that you’re holding it,” she watches until he’s squeezing his eyes shut, “Are you holding that thought?”

“Yes,” Loki says, nodding quickly with his eyes still closed.

“Then hold out your hand.”

He extends his hand, shaking slightly, and Frigga places a polished bead made of carved bone in the palm of his hands, “Now you can hold this tight whenever you need to focus on holding that thought.”

Loki opens his eyes, looking at the bead in the palm of his hand, holding it up to the light to see the carvings.

“Am I going to become bad?” He asks.

“We are raising you well.”

He crosses his arms, “That’s not the same thing.”

“No one can tell exactly what will become of the future, but you are good right now, Loki.”

* * *

At one point in time, he believed the lies, that he was loved and wanted and that one day he might have a chance at getting the throne. Somewhere along the way, all of that had sublimated to hate. He hates Odin for ever convincing him that he was the same as Thor, he hates Thor for treating him like they’re equals, and most of all, he hates himself for falling for it all. He holds that hate in his heart, heavy and hot like an ember in his cold chest.

He is good at keeping his true face hidden, the irony in the statement is enough to make him laugh, frantic and desperate. He plays the carefully constructed roles he’s assigned, of son, of brother, of prince, and keeps his hate close to him. Everything’s going according to his plan until the coronation.

Odin is standing in front of Thor, saying something Loki doesn’t care to listen to, when when he starts to choke on his rage.

It wells up inside him, spilling out as he snarls, “Of course, it was always going to be Thor.”

The crowd murmurs as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening. Odin turns back from Thor, giving him a cold glare.

“Oh yes, what a great trick, convincing me, little Loki, little pet, little stray brought home, that I could one day take the throne. In fact,” he steps towards Odin, hands thrown up in a grandiose motion, “Perhaps we should switch places, you, lowly trickster, and I, on the throne. But, wouldn’t that be exactly what you’re afraid of?”

He can feel his illusion slipping, only to be confirmed by the crowd falling completely silent. 

“Oh, you didn’t tell them?” He brings his hand up to cover his mouth as he gives a mock gasp, “That’s right, you didn’t want  _ anyone  _ to know!”

“Loki!” Thor cries out, pushing past Odin.

“You couldn’t bear the thought of having a  _ monster  _ on the throne.”

“Loki,” Thor keeps his voice quiet as he puts his hand on Loki’s shoulder, blocking him from the crowd, “Brother, you must calm down, you must see reason in this situation.”

“NO!” Loki growls, pushing Thor away, fingernails raking across his skin sharp enough to draw blood, “If you still believe him even now, then you’re a bigger fool than I.”

He storms from the room, followed by no one. When he’s far enough from the coronation room, he slumps against the wall, sliding down to the floor. Then, un-tucking a necklace from under his shirt, he curls his fingers around a single bone bead, worn smooth over the years.


End file.
